


You Make Flirting an Art

by thanatopis



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-07 14:37:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanatopis/pseuds/thanatopis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Haizaki Shougo takes bigger presences in Kise’s mind than he would honestly like in the passing months. It’s fairly annoying, but it’s <em>there</em> like some sort of insistent scratch he can’t itch on an unreachable corner of his back. He writes those feelings off as shallow because what else would they be?</p><p>Kise does not <em>like</em> Haizaki Shougo. He absolutely does not."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In celebration of the start of season three :)

It starts with wicked eyes and vicious threats spoken coyly way too close to the skin of Kise’s face.

It takes him a while but Kise starts to notice odd things about Haizaki Shougo, like how the older teen has a habit of getting into his space, touching him roughly in unnecessary ways that doesn’t always end up in violence. Kise is both unsettled and a bit shocked to realize that when Haizaki does lash out he never aims for Kise’s face. Haizaki has no problems with jabbing a harsh elbow into his stomach or pulling at the roots of his hair but he _never_ touches Kise’s face.

Kise finds it curious in a way he should not. Pondering over the _why_ of it all in his spare thoughts when nothing is too pressing and he actually has the time to consider Haizaki not just as the delinquent teen but as a person as a whole.

Kise finds himself doing this more and more frequently than he would like. It’s not his fault, he surmises, especially when now-a-days running into Haizaki happens way too often that Kise is almost a hundred percent sure that it can’t be called a coincidence anymore.

The highly unpleasant feeling Kise used to get whenever he ran into Haizaki dissipates further and further with each unexpected run in.

Dare he say it—Kise almost finds them… _enjoyable_ , the little sparing matches that he’ll have with Haizaki. Kise rarely ever gets to be so nasty when it comes to people, most of his life is spent under a microscope, with modeling, the legacy of generation of miracles, and his all-adoring fan club at school Kise adopts and acts as such with each different expectation.

Haizaki caters to the part of him that is highly petty and shallow, the part of him that wants to say ‘fuck it’ and the part of him that finds the different airs that he puts on daily exhausting. He won’t admit it to himself but whenever he’s in Tokyo for a modeling gig he’ll take his breaks and go out to wander Tokyo streets hoping that on some off chance Haizaki will show up with his crooked smile and Kise’s name arrogantly filing out between his lips.

Kise of course, denies this completely.

He doesn’t know when but sometime between the months of the start of all this fights turned into the threat of fighting, turned into verbal sparring turning into playful, almost flirty banter. Neither of them acknowledges the change but in the background it plays loud and obviously clear. Both go on not thinking too much of the fact that several months ago just the simple mention of one of their names inspired something akin to hatred, skin prickling with agitation.

Haizaki Shougo takes bigger presences in Kise’s mind than he would honestly like in the passing months. It’s fairly annoying, but it’s _there_ like some sort of insistent scratch he can’t itch on an unreachable corner of his back. He writes those feelings off as shallow because what else would they be?

Kise does not _like_ Haizaki Shougo. He absolutely does not.

* * *

 

Kise is at another modeling shoot when he sees Haizaki again.

Kise watches him in that unguarded moment before their eyes meet, indulging in the opportunity like one would behind a one-way mirror.

Haizaki projects way too loud when he’s with his group of fellow tattooed, pierced, and colorfully dyed delinquent friends.

They make an unsightly bunch.

People on the street, of all genders and size actively avoid them, some seeing them from up ahead and crossing the street to avoid even rubbing shoulders. Kise sighs, his nose wrinkling in distaste as he approaches closer, hands casually resting inside his pants pockets.

There’s a satisfying, almost addicting feeling now whenever Haizaki spots him. His eyes widen now instead of narrow at the sight of him and the smirk that pulls at his lips is kind of infectious that Kise has to keep himself from making the same expression.

Haizaki’s group of goons pause mid-sentence, noticing Haizaki’s sudden lack of interest in the conversation as four pairs of eyes round on him and size him up with barely held back sneers at his _guy_ that dare stands directly in their way and doesn’t look at all apologetic for it.

If Kise was anyone else he’s sure this would earn a fairly lengthy beating, or at least a lot of harassment.

Kise’s head tilts, the side of his mouth quirking a bit.

“Skipping class again Shougo-kun?” He says lightly, with a hint of displeasure. It’s amazing that Haizaki’s still in school, with all the trouble that he causes for himself. Kise has the belief that Haizaki has the possibility of doing good—he was accepted into Teiko after all, but it’s not like Kise really cares. It’s Haizaki’s business after all.

The one standing closest to Haizaki shifts his feet and scoffs, his hair is buzzed into a short bright green Mohawk and the piercings in his bottom lip make his snarl look all the more unsightly.

Kise doesn’t even bother a glance.

Haizaki chuckles, the sound low as he looks Kise up and down, taking in the designer clothes and the perfectly made hair, how his face seems to angelically glow.

Kise tries not to flaunt under that look.

He knows he’s attractive—highly so—the appraising looks he gets from both men and women alike are a testament to that, but the possibility of Shougo seeing the same thing and wanting him…well…Kise likes that prospect far too much than what he’s willing to admit.

“Another modeling gig Ryouta? Don’t be a hypocrite.” How Haizaki says his name hasn’t changed, it’s still drawn out with an inflection that’s meant to poke and tease, but his ears like the sound of it, like how his name seems to roll so easily off the tip of Haizaki’s tongue like he’s _used_ to saying it like the words _tree_ or _dog_.

_It shouldn’t sound like that Shougo-kun…coming from you…_

Kise smirks, “Unlike you Shougo-kun I actually have permission _to be_ here, your reasons well…” Kise trails off, looking at each pair of hard glinted eyes that stare back at him, unimpressed. “Seem a lot less— _legal_.” He finishes off with a honey-sweet smile, eyes crinkling at the corners in that put upon way he’s used to when he’s being condescending.

When Haizaki smiles it’s like a knife, sharp and dangerous and something Kise shouldn’t want to play with for fear of getting cut. It doesn’t stop him from picking it up anyway and running it over his skin, waiting for the sharp edge to finally cut into his skin and bleed him dry—it’s inevitable.

Kise can hear the confused and agitated whispers of Haizaki’s gang.

 _Who the fuck is this?_ One of them says, eyeing Kise up and down. Another one scoffs at him, the piercing in his eyebrow angry and agitated, he doesn’t bother lowering his voice when he says _fucking pretty boy fag_.

Kise looks pointedly at Haizaki, brow arching expectantly. Haizaki barks a laugh, eyes lingering on Kise smugly before he addresses his boys, hands casually in his pockets.

His eyes are cool and hard when he speaks to them. His voice leaves no room for argument, the tones of authority deep, and the threat of repercussion for disobedience as clear as day. Kise wants to laugh at how… _childish_ it looks on Haizaki, as if he’s playing pretend mob boss.

“You guys go on ahead; I’ll meet up with you later.” He addresses his next words to Kise, “I gotta deal with this pest first.”

Kise pouts, mocking hurt. Each one of the colorfully dyed and creatively pierced boys give Kise a look when they walk past, the last one bumps purposely into Kise’s shoulder, scoffing when Kise doesn’t budge and Kise looks at him with dead eyes as if asking him to try it again.

Buzzed cut, green Mohawk mutters something under his breath, scratching at the back of his neck.

“Lovely bunch you have there Shougo-kun.” Kise says easily, walking the rest of the way to Haizaki with light steps. Haizaki meets him half way, smile still set in his face, the one that reminds Kise of oncoming storms, of how he should stay away from them.

“What can I say, they’ve grown on me. So what do you want Ryouta?”

Kise laughs lowly, tilting his head, “You’re the one that separated yourself from your friends Shougo-kun—I should be asking what _you_ want from _me_.”

Kise doesn’t miss how Haizaki’s gaze lingers on the curve of his lips, his eyes move away just as quick, feinting practiced disinterest but the look is incomplete.

Kise swells with that knowledge. He knows it has something specifically to do with it just being Haizaki because other people have had crushes on him, have been more blatant than Haizaki has _ever_ been, but there’s this utterly satisfied feeling of knowing that Haizaki wants him.

Haizaki makes a gesture with his hand, jutting his chin to the direction from which he came. “Let’s go _talk_ then.”

Surprised, Kise’s brows rise. He shrugs all casual a moment later.

“Ah, ah I can’t go too far Shougo-kun, I’m scheduled back in…” Kise pauses, looking at the fancy watch on the inside of his wrist. “…35 minutes.”

Haizaki clicks his teeth, “Shut up, there’s an arcade right up the street.”

Kise knows which arcade, he’s spent some time there just to watch it fly but he still follows Haizaki there, watching his back.

There’s barely anyone in the arcade, which leaves them free reign over the air hockey table and the dance machine which Haizaki won’t touch with a ten foot poll despite Kise’s persistent teasing and his own insistence that he won’t make fun of him even though it’s a huge lie.

 _Scared of making a fool out of yourself Shougo-kun?_ Kise had said, despite that there was no one else in the arcade. Just them, oddly mixed-matched, looking like they came from completely different worlds but yet here there were...against all those odds.

Kise didn’t try to look deeper into it than he already had, he was completely fine with staying in the shallow end of the pool.

Haizaki instead watches him, leaning lazily against the railing with his hand propping up his chin, mouth set in a bored line.

Kise picks a song at random, uncaring that from behind him Haizaki is laughing and snickering into the crook of his arm at the song choice and the character that pops up that is supposedly Kise. Kise hears him mutter something under his breath that sounds almost like _un-fucking-believable_ which Kise shares the same sentiment exactly. He could have never imagined this a year ago.

Kise laughs joyously as he tries and _succeeds_ at keeping up with the level hard steps. After the first minute Kise becomes startlingly used to the beat of the song and the steps, gliding through the song almost elegantly as he notices that Haizaki’s muffled laughter has died down as well.

Kise doesn’t have to turn his head to know Haizaki is looking at him, that the expression he’s wearing is probably something Kise would want to turn his head for but he doesn’t.

There is something oddly frightening about it, like Kise doesn’t know if he would survive if he ever saw such an unguarded thing on Haizaki’s normally stoic face. The temptation is there, oh boy is it there, but in the end Kise decides to ignore it.

He finishes the dance routine with a grade of _Great Job!!_ and hops of the platform with baited breath. He is sweating slightly, his forehead slightly damp as he rakes his bangs back and Kise cringes internally knowing the ruckus the make-up artist is going to give him when he gets back.

Thinking about it, Kise checks his watch, seeing somewhat disappointedly that he only has ten minutes left and walking back to the studio will probably take seven.

Kise sighs, looking over a Haizaki who is still watching him in his slump on the railing, his eyes unreadable now, downcast and hidden by his lashes which Kise notices are _very_ long.

Kise smirks, “My dancing take your breath away Shougo-kun?” He asks trying re-establish what the norm is for them: playful bickering and almost borderline flirty banter—nothing ever serious. Not like now.

Haizaki straightens then, to his full height which is only slightly taller than Kise’s own. He steps closer, mouth pulling into a taut line that almost seems considering—of what Kise doesn’t know—he’s not sure he wants to.

All he does know is that this moment—whatever it is, is breaching on new, dangerous territory, like the first steps over a newly frozen lake.

Haizaki seems like a completely different person as he towers over Kise in a way that is only intimidating because Kise’s heart starts to pound when Haizaki traps the left side of his body with his arm against the railing and the sudden quickness of Kise’s breath has _nothing_ to do with the impromptu exercise he just had.

Kise doesn’t move away, even though he probably should. Haizaki has given him a route of escape, the right side of his body is degrees cooler than his left where Haizaki’s arm brushes softly against his side.

Kise’s brows rise questionably.

“Shougo-kun?”

Haizaki tilts his head, smirk transforming his lips.

“You like saying my name a lot don’t you Ryouta?” How Haizaki says his own— _slowly_ , with an almost sensuous undertone that is intimately obvious, and how Haizaki’s tongue massages over the two syllables of his name…it’s simply not _fair_.

Kise flushes slightly at that but holds his ground, squaring his shoulders as he stares straight into Haizaki’s eyes. They are burning, like molten nickel.

“Not as much as you like saying mine.” Kise says softly, and his lips part on a surprised breath as Haizaki moves in closer, nose nudging against his own, eyes wicked and the curve of his mouth looking soft and plush— _kissable…_

Haizaki’s lips rest a hair’s breath away from Kise’s own, and he can feel each puff warming his own skin as his eyes flutter down to those lips, asking a question both of them are too scared to answer.

Kise jumps slightly as Haizaki softly grabs his wrist, long fingers curling around the appendage, bringing Kise’s wrist up and turning it over only to brush his lips faintly over the sensitive skin. Haizaki never breaks eye contact, not once and Kise’s breath hitches inside his throat, almost choking him.

“What are you—” Kise begins but can't finish, his voice oddly weak.

Haizaki takes a second to look down at his watch and what he says next leaves the skin of Kise’s lips tingling where their lips brush lightly over each other’s like a phantom’s caress of a kiss.

“You should probably get going,” Haizaki says softly, _temptingly,_ making Kise shiver.

“I’ll catch you later Ryouta.”

It sounds like a promise.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From Haizaki's POV
> 
> His mind is a little hectic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I heard you liked the first bit so I wrote more! 
> 
> There might be more where this came from, but I can't say for sure when I'll be writing it. I don't make schedules.

Haizaki is in the middle of an argument with his mother when his phone vibrates in his back pocket.

Haizaki loves his mom, don’t get him wrong. He’d kill any fuckwit for her if he had to no matter the consequences, so it’s a little frustrating when she noses into his business and tries to tell him how to live his life. She disapproves of his friends, dislikes how he seems to stay out later and later at night and her distaste for his braids is apparent even though she doesn’t say anything about it.

_‘You’re going to end up just like your father…’_

She doesn’t know how much that sentence affects him each time she says it.

He _hates_ it—hates his deadbeat of a dad who is god knows where and hates that his mom is still holding onto this fucked up hope that one day he’ll walk through the front door and they’ll pick up right where they all left off.

Fuck that, Haizaki thinks. He would punch the guy square in the nose before allowing him inside his house.

When him and his mom get into screaming matches sometimes Haizaki loses himself—he _never_ touches her, but his sharp tongue sometimes is not his own and lashes out at her anyways. He says things—things that he doesn’t mean and things that he does in the heat of the moment that make him sulk in shame hours later.

Haizaki knows he’s an asshole and he’ll never apologize for it, but in those moments afterwards when he knows the sting of his words has landed exactly the way he wants them to on the person he wants to hurt the least…well that feeling fucking blows.

It’s almost midnight and he’s somewhere in Tokyo on a bench, reclining his whole body against the uncomfortable panels of wood, trying to make out if the lights in the sky are actually stars or planes passing through.

He’s cooled down considerably since their fight hours ago, but Haizaki doesn’t want to go home just yet—he doesn’t know if he wants to go home ever.

There’s this vast need in him to pack up and leave this fucking city behind. There’s nothing here but failure and bad memories and Haizaki fucking hates it with his every breath. He wonders vaguely what he’s still doing here, still playing by this city’s rules and an image of no one other than _Kise-fucking-Ryouta_ pops into his mind, golden and bright, the memory of the sharpness of his smile and the defiant look in his eyes are branded in Haizaki’s mind probably for the rest of his life.

It’s hilarious, Haizaki thinks, their relationship, both past and present.

Haizaki doesn’t consider himself to be a fag—he’s never found any guy as attractive as he finds Kise and when Haizaki thinks about why that might be he can’t find a good enough reason to satisfy him.

There’s nothing feminine about Kise Ryouta, not truly. Yeah, he’s extremely pretty in a way that makes certain parts of Haizaki’s body ache, but there are sharp angles to his face not curves, and when he'd pressed his body to Kise’s at the arcade, so tempted to kiss him and _take_ —there wasn’t a hint of softness there that a girl would have.

Haizaki found that he didn’t mind the change…quite the opposite actually.

If he thinks about the _why_ of it too much he starts to get frustrated and angry so he doesn’t. He rolls with the budding attraction like he does everything else life throws his way. He’s just gonna fucking deal with it.

His phone vibrates again in his pocket and for a moment Haizaki thinks it’s his mother, no doubt calling to see exactly where he is. It turns out to be a text, two in fact from the person that is currently drowning in his thoughts.

The first one is from when he'd been arguing with his mother. Haizaki had completely forgotten about it in his anger and desperate need to go anywhere that didn’t involve being inside his house.

Haizaki actually finds himself grinning when he reads it.

> shougo-kun, i’ll be in ur neck of the woods Sat if you wanna meet up~ i get out earlier than usual so you’ll have more time to admire me and don’t deny that you don’t, cuz i know you do…

The second one is just his name with a question mark behind it and even that is enough to make him irrationally giddy.

What in the actual fuck is wrong with him?

Haizaki clicks his teeth fondly, smiling despite himself as he shoots back a text.

> pshh you fucking wish ryoutaaa. miss me that much? what time?

He plops his phone on his stomach when he’s finished, stretching his hands behind his head, utterly satisfied with himself for reasons unknown.

Kise texts him back with a cheeky—‘only about as much as you miss me’—and tells him he’ll be out by five.

Haizaki actually starts to look forward to something.

* * *

 

Haizaki leaves his boys behind on Saturday, making up the excuse he has things to do today that don’t involve harassing girls or looming around arcades and convenient stores.

He doesn’t have anything planned for what he wants to do today and he supposes maybe he should, but he’s not the kind of guy that plans ahead, not really.

In-between the wait, Haizaki picks up a few things for his mom, unprompted, to apologize without actually having to say it. He’s not really good at that either.

When five rolls around the corner, he’s walking up to the building which Kise is usually scheduled at and waits before he hears a clinking of fashionable boots coming toward him.

Kise looks confident and at ease as usual.

His attitude used to piss Haizaki off, there was just always something about Kise Ryota that seemed to rub him the wrong way. Maybe it was his looks or maybe it was how fast he grew in basketball, but Haizaki’s run into various pretty boys and basketball players that are better than he is and he knows that those reasons might have spawned his antagonism but weren’t the sole cause for it.

Haizaki leans back on the sidewalk railing as Kise approaches, his Jordan’s resting against the lower bars.

It’s pretty warm out today, so Haizaki went with some khaki’s before he left the house. His t-shirt is a black tank with his favorite international basketball team’s logo plastered on the front. It also helps in showing off his arms, not that he needs to or anything…

Kise quickly looks him up and down and Haizaki thrums at the knowledge that someone like _this_ wants him. It’s a huge ego boost, that’s for damn sure.

Kise smiles, “You look more thuggish than usual Shougo-kun.”

Haizaki will never get over how Kise says his name—with a light, teasing tilt and an addicting quality to it that makes him want Kise to say it over and over.

Haizaki wants to hear him while moaning it.

He smirks, shrugging.

“Don’t hear you complaining.”

Kise chuckles, eyes lowering.

“No, no I’m not.”

Haizaki wonders if Kise knows what he’s doing when he looks at him like that—like he wants to eat him up and savor every bite.

Haizaki finds himself absentmindedly licking his lips, suddenly regretting not planting one on Kise during that day at the arcade. He’d been so close, their lips had almost touched and the breath that escaped Kise had been shaky and hot and even thinking about the look in his eyes when he pulled back is enough to have him tingling all over.

_I want you—fuck, I want you so much._

It’s all Haizaki can think. It’s maddening.

They stand there for a minute, talking with looks and smirks and it’s so blaringly _loud_ to Haizaki—so obvious he wonders how the hell people walking past them can’t tell.

Kise sighs, finally breaking the tension.

“Shougo-kun, let’s go get something to eat, I’m starving.”

Haizaki’s not too hungry himself but a nice cold coke in this weather sounds amazing. He falls easily into step with Kise, fitting his hands into his pockets to keep them from fidgeting. He knocks into Kise’s shoulder playfully, earning a mock-hurt look as Kise does it back, only harder and he can’t help but laugh.

He wonders how obvious they look, grinning like school children and looking at each other under the pretense that they aren’t. Haizaki finds himself not really giving a shit—he doesn’t give a shit about _anything_ other than Kise when he’s with Kise and it’s amazing how the tables have turned from a year ago.

He shakes his head in awe.

“Where are we going?”

“My favorite establishment in this city—it’s the best!”

Haizaki raises an eyebrow but goes along with it.

He’s a little bit more than surprised to find out that Kise’s favorite restaurant isn’t some fancy, foreign place that Haizaki wouldn’t belong in even if he was wearing the most expensive of suits.

 _Maji-fucking-Burger_ looms in front of them and Haizaki can’t help but snort.

Kise has stars in his eyes by the time they walk through the door.

“Really?” Haizaki asks incredulously, his nerves calming down a bit.

Kise shrugs, “Their fries are _really_ good Shougo-kun and their milkshakes—” Kise makes an over exaggerated noise that sounds borderline pornographic and Haizaki shuffles awkwardly, embarrassed at how much the sound turns him on.

Kise graciously offers to pay and Haizaki scoffs, the corner of his mouth lifting.

“I’m not a damn girl—I can pay for myself.” For emphasis, Haizaki pulls out his wallet, waving it around. He tries not to think about how small it feels in his fingers.

Kise smiles apologetically, the corners of his mouth soft as his eyes drag up Haizaki’s figure before settling on his eyes and staying there. Haizaki holds his breath.

“I know you’re not a girl Shougo—that’s _obvious_ …”

Haizaki releases his breath on a slow exhale, his eyes dilating.

“You really gotta stop doing that.”

Kise’s smiles can turn on a flip of a hat and this one currently teasing Haizaki is no different. Haizaki watches Kise watch him and it’s amazing that Kise can do things like this in public and not feel lewd in some respect.

The AC buzzes quietly above them, but that’s not the cause of what gives Haizaki goosebumps. The little pin-pricks makes the hairs stand on edge on his forearms, while the shiver that runs down his back is extremely telling.

Kise tilts his head, batting his eyelashes innocently.

“Doing what, Shougo-kun?”

Haizaki’s mouth thins.

He’s never wanted to kiss someone so much as of now and Kise just has to _know._

If Haizaki could he would grab Kise by the waist and bring him into his body, relishing in the feel of Kise so close and _attainable_ and for that moment, utterly his. He would kiss Kise in a way those lips need to be kissed—hard, leaving his lips sore and tingling, and Kise dazed and confused.

Haizaki _wants_ —wants a lot and it’s not in the least bit fair that he feels this sudden need rooted deep in his bones in a goddamn fast food restaurant.

Haizaki opens his mouth to say— _something_ , but before he can the girl at the register is calling out to them, watching the both of them skeptically underneath the brim of her visor, unsure at what exactly is passing between the two of them.

Kise clears his throat and begins his cheery list of all the things he wants to eat and just like that, the moment is abruptly over and _fuck_ —it’s not fucking fair.

Haizaki pretends not to sulk, glaring daggers at the girl the whole time while Kise tells him to stop behind his snickers of laughter, like this whole situation is so goddamn hilarious to him.

It probably is.

Haizaki scoffs, mumbling under his breath at Kise to shut the fuck up.

* * *

 

It dons on Haizaki that he just might be on a date with Kise Ryouta.

He realizes this when they both sit down and despite being in a fast food restaurant and the day being just the same as all the others, Haizaki can’t stop his heart from pounding loudly inside his chest each time Kise lingeringly looks at him or says something supposedly innocent that makes Haizaki’s whole body flood with heat, eyes flickering down to Kise’s lips.

It’s a little surreal to be honest.

Haizaki’s never really bothered with dates. He’s so used to the whole routine of picking a girl off the street, hanging out with her before deciding whether or not she’s gonna put out and if she’s that type of girl, Haizaki takes her back to a love hotel and fucks her until he can get his rocks off.

It didn’t go unnoticed by his boys or himself that after a while he stopped. A pretty bottle blond plaguing his thoughts and making having sex with anyone incredibly unsatisfying.

But he’ll never in a million years admit that to Kise.

They leave Maji with no real destination in mind.

It’s getting late but they keep walking. They’re fairly close together, shoulders bumping occasionally and the backs of their hands brushing softly, alerting passersby that in some way they are together.

Kise hums faintly when conversation laps. People on the street are starting to dwindle and without realizing it they’re walking through the park, the street lights flickering on one by one and it’s so incredibly quite, the rustle of leaves and the crickets serving as white noise.

Kise collapses on a bench with an exhausted sigh and Haizaki follows right after him, hands in his pockets, scuffing his shoes against the symmetrical stones, deliberately trying not to look at Kise.

The temperature has dropped slightly and even in his tank top Haizaki can’t feel the chill. Kise is warm next to his side—it’s something that he just can’t ignore and Haizaki is not as close as he suddenly wants to be, not by a long shot.

Biting his lip, Haizaki chances a quick glance at Kise.

“Gonna tell me what this is about?” He says it because he doesn’t know what else to say. Haizaki wants what’s been building this whole day—these last couple of months—to just happen already. Sitting here, pretending that Kise doesn’t affect him the way he does is _killing_ him, but he’s too much of a chicken shit to initiate it all by himself.

Haizaki needs a little assurance to know that he’s not the only one feeling this. That he hasn’t been the only one pathetically pining late at night, ready to do just about anything to catch another glance or another laugh.

Kise looks at him and raises a perfectly arched brow, but doesn’t say anything.

He licks his lips and leans in closer, thigh resting snuggly against Haizaki’s and the muscles in his leg jump at the touch. The tips of his ears heat at the telling give away, but Haizaki chooses to ignore it in favor of watching Kise and his every move.

He doesn’t want to miss anything.

Kise smiles a small smirk of a thing, the curves around it knowing.

“You know what this is about…”

Kise tilts his head and brushes his nose coyly against Haizaki’s, the breath of Kise’s words fan over his lips, making them twitch.

Haizaki grins. He wonders absentmindedly how stupid and giddy he most likely looks.

He shrugs ignorantly, hand moving and resting on Kise’s thigh, squeezing the muscles there once. “Oh I don’t know…I might just need you to show me.”

Haizaki chuckles and bumps his forehead fondly against Kise’s own when Kise starts to laugh, bright and loud. His eyes crinkle softly and shine lusciously and Haizaki wonders how the fuck he got here.

“This is crazy…”

He doesn’t mean to say it out loud but still, it doesn’t make it any less true. Less than a year ago they were at each other’s throats, Haizaki angry and bitter and holding a corrosive grudge.

Kise sobers slightly then, mouth thinning as he no doubt is thinking the same thing.

“Yeah it is,” Kise softly begins. “But I think about your mouth way too much to be considered normal and I think that’s crazier.”

The sound that confession gets Haizaki to make is foreign to his own ears and he involuntarily digs his fingers harder into Kise’s flesh, as if trying to ground himself. Kise’s lashes flutter, parting his lips on a quite moan as his own hand finds a fistful of Haizaki’s shirt, anchoring him closer to Kise.

Haizaki exhales a staggering breath, angling his head closer and brushing his lips faintly over Kise’s in a barely there kiss.

This teasing, it’s both exhilarating and torturous. Haizaki doesn’t know how long he can keep playing this game.

“So you think about my mouth, Ryouta?”

Kise bites his bottom lip and nods, looking pained.

“Your mouth, your tongue, your hands…and other things too…”

How Kise fucking says it— _fuck_ —like he somehow knows the words will go straight to Haizaki’s dick and make him harder than steel is simply unfair. And by how the corner of Kise’s mouth rises against his lips he knows it too.

“You little bitch,” Haizaki says, but there’s no heat there, just awe and admiration.

Kise laughs, “Kiss me already Shougo.”

Haizaki does without thought, lips meeting Kise’s and just resting there for a moment before his mouth opens and his lips start moving. Kise hums and the vibration spurs Haizaki to press harder, to nibble on Kise’s lower lip and lick into his mouth.

Kise sighs when he feels Haizaki’s arm slide around his waist and bring him in closer, almost in his lap and Haizaki would have no objection of Kise resting there if they weren’t on a public park bench.

But it’s still good, still _amazing_ as Kise cajoles his tongue to rub against his own in a slow, sensuous roll that has Haizaki groaning and gripping strongly at Kise’s back.

Kise rubs up against him insistently, as if he’s nowhere near as close as he wants to be and Haizaki has to let go and disconnect or else they’re going to end up being arrested for public indecency.

They’re both panting harshly by the end of it and Haizaki’s body burns where Kise drags his hand down the front of his shirt, more reluctant to let go.

“You’re too much.” Haizaki says, but in no way is it a bad thing. Haizaki is just happy to get lost in it.

Kise smirks, licking his lips as he runs a hand through his hair.

“I think next time we do that, it should be at my house.”

Haizaki looks at him stunned before grinning back.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I want you all to myself.”

“Then you can have me.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the rating goes up for this new chapter! If you guys have any ideas or prompts for these two in this story that I've written (I didn't, at all, plan for this to be as long as it is) shoot me a message over at my tumblr [here](http://yamazaki-sousukes.tumblr.com/)

Kise is from a well off family. Not as well off as Akashi or Midorima—both of his parents work for one, but they’ve never struggled.

So it genuinely surprises some people, the modest, plain house Kise lives in despite his flashy nature and appearance. His personality and overall demeanor give the assumption that he’s got money, or at least his parents do, and with all the designer clothes Kise wears it’s hard not to roll with that assumption.

Haizaki Shougo is no exception to the rule when he arrives to the Kise residence Thursday afternoon.

His parents are at work and won’t be home until late in the day and Kise feels a excited buzz pass through his body like a livewire at the knowledge that Haizaki and him will _truly_ be alone—no one to encroach or stumble upon them—that he _finally_ has Haizaki all to himself.

They’re both skipping school today to do this. There’s such little time elsewhere to see each other and with resent events, keeping away has become near impossible for Kise.

He likes Haizaki—really fucking likes him—and whether or not that’s wise is still yet to be decided. Kise’s not too worried though, these past couple of months they’ve been feeling each other out, looking deeper than just the petty antagonism they shared and Kise’s finding himself urgently wanting to peel back more layers of Haizaki Shougo’s rough exterior.

There’s so much more to Haizaki than his cocky smirk and sharp eyes and Kise finds himself fascinated by the moments when he stumbles upon something new each time he’s with Haizaki. It’s like looking into a kaleidoscope, utterly enamored by the shapes and patterns, eagerly trying to find new ones.

Kise laughs at himself as he a picks up around the house. He feels so corny but he can’t help it.

Kise absentmindedly pushes his hair back with a white headband—it gets annoying when it gets into his eyes, especially when he’s trying to focus and do something. He’d cut it but the contract he has with his various modeling agencies would have an absolute fit if he were to. It’s frustrating.

Haizaki arrives right after Kise calls a pizza joint, ordering a large pepperoni and sausage pizza and Kise emphasizes on the _extra cheese_ very clearly because they always seem to forget.

Embarrassingly enough, Kise’s heart starts to pick up. The pulsing muscle sounds like a jackhammer in his ears when he opens the door and Haizaki is there, taking up all the space in his sight. He’s wearing a gray hoodie and loose basketball shorts and Kise would snicker at any other boy, at how typically _boyish_ it is, but Haizaki stops him dead and he just stands there and suddenly Kise’s not able to think about anything else other than how they’re going to be _completely_ alone for hours and—

“You just gonna stand there and gape Ryouta, or are you gonna let me in?”

How Haizaki smiles—like he _knows_ —makes the tips of Kise’s ears flush.

God, he’s not this _easy_.

Kise opens his mouth then closes it, does it again until he clears his throat and just gestures Haizaki in because his mouth apparently has stopped functioning.

Haizaki just smiles as he goes to take off his shoes. It’s a new kind of smile, fond and playful and Kise really likes it directed at him.

He scratches the back of his neck, realizing that his hair is still held back by the fabric headband and he quickly takes it off, shaking his hair out.

“I just ordered pizza, should be here in like, 30 minutes?”

Haizaki nods his head, “Cool.”

They awkwardly shuffle around for a moment, catching each other’s gazes and then quickly looking away.

It’s ridiculous that Kise feels nervous in his own home, like he’s too big for the space with his heavy arms and legs but then Haizaki is moving towards him, moving slow as if not to spook an animal and Kise is mildly touched by the care Haizaki is putting into this.

When they’re close enough, Haizaki puts his hand on Kise’s neck, working his fingers back and scratching with his nails at the nape of Kise’s neck. His fingers move up and embed lightly into the thick of his hair, rubbing at the base of his skull and Kise tilts cautiously before he catches himself, mildly mortified.

It feels _really_ nice.

Kise leans into it without a thought.

“Stop being so damn weird…” Haizaki scoffs lightly, frowning.

Kise opens his mouth to childishly say something back but then Haizaki is kissing him. Kissing him for the first time since two weeks ago on the park bench and it’s not like that kiss—this kiss is soft, Haizaki’s lips barely brushing over Kise’s and it’s over way before he wants it to be.

Reluctant to let go, Kise gives Haizaki a quick peck to smooth his need. He smirks when their lips part.

“Shougo-kun,” Kise says teasingly and just like that the nervousness and unease floods out of Kise with a kiss.

Haizaki snorts, clipping Kise lightly on the shoulder, his eyes moving sideways and there’s a faint blush painting over his cheeks that Kise wants to trace over with his lips.

“Shut up,” Haizaki says, moving deeper into Kise’s house and looking around.

Kise follows from a distance, just watching as Haizaki enters the living room, peering at family photos and chuckling at the ones from when Kise was a little boy. Kise knows the one—his ninth birthday party when his sisters thought it would be hilarious to slam his face into the cake. He’s laughing and smiling along with them, licking the icing off his face from his fingers.

When he’s had his fill Haizaki turns to Kise with a keen eyes, the silver in them flashing.

“So Ryouta,” Haizaki begins, straightening up and putting his hands into his pockets. “What do you do around here for fun?”

* * *

 

They play Mario Kart.

They argue for over a minute about who’s going to play as Yoshi before Haizaki grumbles under his breath and settles for Mario. Kise smugly considers it his first win.

Haizaki gets back at him for it, of course. He laughs meanly while Kise gets hit with a shell a couple minutes into the game and Kise gapes at him as if personally offended, whining all the while.

They both suck, ranking both 6th and 9th out of 10 players, but that’s not the point.

They’re on their 7th race before the pizza arrives, the both of them loudly bickering and knocking into each other, mad grins on their faces.

Kise just _barely_ manages to win that one and does a little victory dance as his kart crosses the finish line, while Haizaki snickers and throws his controller down on the ground like the actual kid he is. Kise wiggles his butt around as he basically dances to the front door and Haizaki can’t help but watch fondly. Those jeans are a godsend on Kise hips, tight and showy in all the places that matter.

Haizaki bites his lip.

Kise comes back into the living room with a huge pizza and an even bigger smile.

Haizaki gets up, brushing a soothing hand down over his braids. “Fuck, that smells _good_. What kind did ya’ get?”

Kise hums, opening the top and practically drooling. How he stays in shape despite all the crap Haizaki has seen him eat is kind of amazing, but then again high calorie foods for how much energy they burn is a must.

“Meat lovers.”

Haizaki snorts, giving Kise a lecherous side-eye and knocking into his side with his shoulder.

The comment on the tip of his tongue is just too good to pass up.

“Like meat, huh?”

Kise barks a sharp laugh, giving Haizaki the same sideways look, his eyes glinting playfully.

“Don’t be crude Shougo-kun.” There’s nothing reprimanding about his tone so Haizaki keeps up with his innuendos, pleased that they make Kise blush and laugh both.

He eagerly grabs a slice, his mouth watering at the smell of it as he looks right into Kise’s eyes and says, “Only asking…because I _definitely_ do,” And takes a big bite, getting his teeth in to make sure it’s clean and rips away without cheese hanging off his chin.

The look on Kise’s face is more perfect than the actual pizza.

Haizaki adds it to his own list of wins as he chuckles, lids low, sucking the grease off his thumb as he moves back into the living room with one last coy look.

* * *

 

They finish off the majority of the box in no short time.

Haizaki is thrumming with warm energy, his body lax and just a bit tired and Kise is no better. They decide to put a movie on while they relax, Haizaki’s never heard of it but then he’s not really paying attention, especially when Kise suddenly grabs him and throws him along the entire length of his couch, making him lose his breath and snuggle into his side a moment later.

Kise won’t look at him when Haizaki looks over, surprise written all over his face. Kise’s face is buried into the side of his neck, his breath hot and his body hard yet soft as he lays half on top of him. Haizaki’s not complaining though, not by a long shot. He subtly shifts to bring them closer and his brain tries not to overheat when Kise’s leg slides between his own.

Haizaki grins, his hand indulgently brushing down Kise’s arm before he realizes it. He hesitates for only a moment before brushing it back up again, letting the tips of his fingers linger. He inhales deeply when he feels Kise shiver.

“That’s really bold of you Ryouta.” Haizaki teases.

Kise makes a half whining half groaning sound, half-heartedly hitting Haizaki in the chest. The tips of his ears are so _hot_.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it…” He mumbles, lips lightly brushing over Haizaki’s neck and fuck—something like that shouldn’t feel that good.

But Haizaki likes it _very_ much and despite his previous fatigue, Haizaki feels more awake than he has all day with Kise up against his side, the smell of him sweet and spicy. He also happens to be a seventeen year old boy and he can’t help it if his cock does a little dance in his basketball shorts at the close proximity.

It dons on Haizaki then how long ago the last time he had sex was. How his body just seems to ache not for the act itself, but for the guy lying next to him and just the thought of what that actually means is kind of terrifying.

They lay there for what feels like hours, just breathing each other in. Haizaki doesn’t move, he doesn’t know if Kise is asleep or not but he’s content with just existing like this, like nothing else in the world matters besides him and Kise.

He feels like such a fucking sap, honestly—if last year him could see current year him, that Haizaki would be pitching a fit and he can’t really blame him.

Kise Ryouta has managed to captivate him in some way that he couldn’t before. Haizaki thinks regularly about what that ‘something’ might have been, wonders what would have happened if that ‘something’ never happened and then stops thinking about it immediately because picturing Ryouta doing this with some other fuckboy gets his blood going and not in a good way.

“What are you thinking about?” It’s spoken quietly on his shoulder and Haizaki blinks, suddenly back inside his body.

“Ah…nothin’ worth saying. You sleeping?”

Kise rises on his elbow, blinking down at Haizaki with a frown. He looks skeptical.

“Nothing worth saying, huh? You think too loudly so I couldn’t.”

Haizaki puts his hand on Kise’s hip in a non-verbal apology. He likes his hand there, so he tightens it, bringing Kise closer and sighing pleasantly at the press of their hips.

Haizaki licks his lips as his dick gives an interested twitch. It feels amazing and he tries not to be obvious about it but it’s no use. Kise’s watching him, eyes bright and lips sensuously curving and Haizaki just stares at him—this beautiful, sexy guy that actually wants him back and the urge to kiss him in that moment is so fucking strong. With one inquiring look as if to say ‘is this okay?’ Haizaki wraps his hand slowly around the back of Kise’s neck, fingers threading through the short hairs at his nape and pulling his mouth down onto his own.

The shock that travels through his body each time they do this is something Haizaki expected to lessen with time, but now he’s not too sure. His body thrums with a dull ache that he feels from the roots of hair to the tip of his toes at how soft Kise’s lips are, how they slide ever so slightly over his own and—shit—he could do this for hours if Kise would let him.

It doesn’t matter that they both taste faintly of garlic when Haizaki brushes his tongue against Kise’s bottom lip, biting it and dragging his teeth over the sensitive underside. Kise gasps and it’s such a sweet fucking sound—really—it makes his cock twitch as he presses it absentmindedly against Kise’s thigh, rutting it lightly against tensing muscle.

Kise’s eyes flutter open hotly, lids low and the look in them makes Haizaki groan, his own mouth becoming more urgent, tongue quickly darting between Kise’s open lips and flicking his tongue teasingly against Kise’s.

They kiss like that for minutes, tongues sliding against tongues, lips bitten and dragged between teeth, and plenty of sucking before Haizaki decides he needs to do _something_ and flips over on top of Kise, breathing hard.

Kise moans a bit at that, clinging to Haizaki’s shoulders as his warm mouth starts attacking Haizaki’s neck, peppering bites and kisses both to the straining tendons as he arches back, flashes fluttering at how good it all feels.

Haizaki’s hips inevitably work their way in between Kise’s legs which spread eagerly for him. He grinds his hips once into him and— _shit_ —they’re both unbearably hard. Haizaki has never been with a guy—never even once thought about it—but it seems natural to snake a hand in between their bodies and grip Kise’s cock with firm, eager fingers, feeling him through the denim material.

He grins smugly when Kise moans, eyes fluttering close as he flings his head back and digs it into the couch cushion. Haizaki licks his lips, more than pleased by the reaction of knowing he can make Kise feel this way.

“You make such cute noises Ryouta,” Haizaki good-naturedly teases, biting at Kise’s lip. The heel of his hand rubs up and down the bulging length of Kise’s cock and it’s kind of intimidating, touching a guy like this, but when Kise _whines_ — _fuck_ —Haizaki’s mind just sort of flat lines. In that moment he is nothing more than the thought: ‘Get this boy off and make him pant your name as he comes.’

So it’s pretty easy from there on to unbutton and pull down Kise’s pants and underwear. Haizaki manages to pay attention long enough to shuck the jeans down until they reach Kise’s knees and then promptly gives up because he’s an impatient, greedy bastard and he wants this boy _now_ in any way he can get him.

Of course Kise would have a cock as pretty as his face. It’s not too long and it’s not too thick and the bright pink flush at the head has Haizaki craving things he’s never wanted before.

Despite his nudity, Kise doesn’t look shy in the slightest as he watches Haizaki watch him with burning eyes. His gold irises, half hidden by long black lashes are sultry and expectant and when Kise bites his bottom lip, shifting up his shirt to rest under his armpits and tracing indulgent patterns on his skin, Haizaki watches as if charmed.

He’s breathing hard and his fists are clenched at his sides as he watches Kise’s hands trail down the various defined lines of his abdominals before reaching the jut of his hips. It’s a tantalizing line—the skin that connects Kise’s torso to his legs and Haizaki wants to slowly run his tongue over it but instead settles to watch Kise attentively circle a hand around his cock and give it one nice long stroke.

They both unsteadily breathe out ‘fuck’ at the same time. If Haizaki tries—and he doesn’t have to try too hard—he can feel Kise’s hand on him and the realization that he’s still dressed is laughable. Kise must see it in his face because he’s laughing softly in the next moment, hand coming off his cock to tease the elastic of Haizaki’s basketball shorts with a coy index finger.

“Are you shy Shougo?” Kise asks with a mischievous grin, pulling the elastic down further and even that feels amazing good. _Naughty_ he corrects, feeling giddy.

Haizaki smirks, challenge in his eyes as he leans back and showily works his shirt over his head, stomach rippling, abs tensing in just the way he wants them too. He doesn’t watch to see where his shirt goes, Kise’s the only thing that he sees and the way his eyes roam hotly over his body makes him burn.

He smugly boasts his chest, gray eyes gleaming.

“Not in the slightest.”

Kise wiggles, impatient.

“Then let me see…”

Haizaki can’t deny him that, not that he even wants too, but he kind of wanted to see Kise work for it, maybe plead for it a little but he’s straining inside his shorts, hard and hot and the sigh of relief he gives when he pulls down his own constrictions and watches his cock bob free, lightly hitting his stomach is rewarding in itself.

Kise’s mouth parts on a wispy breath, lids lowered and running his hand back and forth along the jut of his hip bone as he watches Haizaki run an indulgent hand over himself, easing the ache.

He mimics the movement, hand on his dick, tugging in the same speed Haizaki is.

“Mm…I’ve thought of this before you know.” Kise breathes, his words sure yet shaky and Haizaki knows for a fact he’s wrapped around Kise’s pretty little finger. He can’t find it in himself to mind.

Haizaki grunts, fisting himself harder at the down stroke at the admission, biting his lip into his mouth to repress the groan his throat wants to give.

He licks his lips, “Oh yeah?”

Kise nods his head slowly, the corner of his mouth rising.

“A lot of the times in my bed, or in the shower…you get the idea…”

Kise looks too damn pleased with himself when Haizaki breathes out a curse, a bead of pre-come pulsing out of his cockhead, making the slide that much more slick and hot.

Haizaki quickly changes that.

With a grunt, he lowers himself on top of Kise, awkwardly shifting his knees which are still wrapped around basketball shorts. Kise’s eyes go wide before he gets it and softly moans, shifting his body appropriately with his pants somewhere around one of his ankles.

And when Haizaki grinds into Kise, sliding their cocks together— _fuck_ —it’s scorching and wet and there’s nothing that feels quite like it if he’s being honest. It’s silky, the steady glide of their skin pressed together as close as it is and Haizaki can feel prominent veins rubbing and catching on his own.

He moans a sound that sounds embarrassingly unlike him as he buries his head in the crook between Kise’s neck and shoulder, the arm not holding him up slinks down to Kise’s hip, gripping it firmly and angling him closer.

Kise’s panting hard, whining each time Haizaki rolls his hips particularly hard and it’s so fucking wet down there already, making Haizaki speed up, glutes flexing. The friction is going to kill him.

He dazedly kisses at Kise’s neck, mouth sloppy and wet, moving over the underside of his jaw, to his cheek, lingering over swollen, parted lips. Haizaki stares into those eyes as he and Kise breath in each other’s air and the sensation makes him shiver all the way down to his toes with how intimate it all is—how sexy something so simple can be.

The feeling is addicting and Haizaki never wants to stop.

Kise gasps, his hands clawing over Haizaki’s back and ass, nails digging in forcing him closer and Haizaki hisses, biting down on Kise’s bottom lip as he rocks harder, the couch starting to creak.

“You gonna come?” Haizaki asks on a rough breath, almost ready to pop himself, but he’s determined to make Kise come first—then gloat proudly about it afterwards.

Kise swallows hard, throwing his head back against the cushions and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Yeah, yeah… _fuck yeah_ —”

Haizaki laughs fondly, smiling as he works a hand in between their bodies and wraps his hand around Kise’s cock, putting his pleasure on hold for a bit. He’s never done this—any of this—with another guy before, but he has a dick himself and he has an idea about how to stroke one, so how hard could this really be?

The answer is not hard at all.

Kise’s hips shoot up immediately and almost throw him off. Haizaki’s grin feels like it’s going to break his face as he takes that as a good sign to continue.

Kise’s fingers tear desperately at the fabric of the couch, legs widening as much as they can with the space provided and the fact that his jeans and underwear are handing off his ankle, no doubt weighing him down.

“ _Oh fuck_ —mnnnhh—”

Haizaki’s sure he’s never seen something quite as erotic as Kise getting jerked off and might he add, _damn good_ by all the undulating and moaning if that’s anything to go by. Haizaki can tell Kise’s feeling it by how wide and lax his mouth goes and Haizaki wants to kiss him but he also wants to watch _this_ and burn every detail into his brain for future reference.

Kise makes needy, wanton noises, chanting over and over about how he’s gonna come and Haizaki wants it—wants it with a startling ferocity. He bites Kise’s chin, hand working faster, squelching noises getting louder.

“Who’s making you come baby?”

Kise’s breath hitches.

“ _Fuuuuuuckk_ —you are.”

Haizaki groans.

“Say it Ryouta.”

Kise moans loudly this time, eyes shining as he watches Haizaki and there’s something so desperate about his expression, so wrecked.

His voice shatters, “ _Shougo_ — _fuck_ —gonna make me come—”

It’s with a whimper that Kise comes all over Haizaki’s hand and both their bellies. Kise undulates wildly, his hips rolling like waves, hiccupping and cursing and Haizaki watches it with greedy, tepid eyes, utterly taken by the sight of Kise so blissed out and it being all because of him. Haizaki’s own need hits him then like a fist in the gut, grabbing his own cock in the same hand with his fist as tight as he can make it around both their cocks.

It doesn’t take much.

Three, four strokes and Haizaki is coming with this bottom lip dragging between his teeth, making a low, almost pained sound in his throat as he runs his other hand, palm flat, up his chest and then back down smoothing him. And everything that had been bothering him, insignificant or not, drops at the waist side, like a splinter deep in his skin finally being removed. Nothing can bother him at this level of satisfaction and utter peace and Haizaki wants to dwell in it for as long as he possibly can.

He tiredly drops to Kise’s side, nuzzling into his neck and giving light pecks to the underside of his jaw, trying to give him room to breathe as he tries to calm his heart back into a steady tempo.

“Shit,” Kise says weakly in the moments after, when their breath has caught up with them and thought becomes a simple thing again.

He sounds impressed and Haizaki can’t help but huff a laugh, pleased.

They should probably get up and clean the mess that’s solidifying between them but Haizaki stays where he is, feeling warm and content. He absentmindedly strokes Kise’s stomach with his thumb.

“So…” Haizaki begins, oddly hesitant even after what they just did. “We dating now or what?” It comes out a bit more rude and impatient than what he had been going for but Kise seems to get the idea.

He laughs, the sound throaty.

“Do you like me?—circle yes or no.” Kise jokes, caressing Haizaki’s back.

“Well if you’re gonna be an ass about it I’m gonna circle ‘no’” Haizaki scoffs.

“So mean…”

Kise tilts his chin up and meets his eyes before kissing him, soft and slow.

“ _That_ answer your question?”

Haizaki does not pout.

“You’re still an ass.”


End file.
